


Yield

by brightingales (zoeteniets)



Series: Jarry tumblr prompts [5]
Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Hugs, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 21:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoeteniets/pseuds/brightingales
Summary: For the tumblr prompt: "Are you drunk?"Harry runs into James. Literally.





	Yield

**Author's Note:**

> Yield - to give way to arguments, demands, or pressure. To relinquish possession of something or someone...

James is just on the way back to his apartment when he is accosted by a body barrelling straight into him and nearly knocking him off his feet. For a moment, he panics that he’s being mugged, but then whoever it is who has come running into him winds their arms around his body and sighs contentedly into his neck.

“James,” his assailant breathes, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

James disentangles himself from the octopus-like arms clinging to him and takes a good look at whoever it is who has just tried to give him the cross between a rugby tackle and a hug. Of course, there’s only one person it really can be.

Harry.

James had once dreamed of the moment when Harry would come crashing back to his life. He had imagined the sound of frantic knocking at his door and the sight of Harry on the step begging him to take him back and refusing to budge until James at least heard him out. Sometimes he imagined their reunion would be quieter. Halfway through November, he had started indulging in a daydream where he had a secret admirer who would leave him handwritten notes tied around boxes of Charbonnel et Walker truffles – a courtship of delightful trinkets and pretty words finally culminating in tickets to a private box at the opera where Harry would be waiting for him. Other times, all he wished for was a phone call, a text, even a postcard would do: anything to let him know that Harry was alive, safe, and thinking of him.  

But none of those things had happened. Harry had simply just come back, a week ago, completely unannounced. He hadn’t come to James and James had no idea if Harry was waiting for him to make the first move or content to just leave their relationship where it lay – broken and sodden in the passing storm.

James is the sort of person who always has a response to everything, it’s one of his greatest strengths as a lawyer, even if it has caused him to act rashly and then rapidly change his mind. Like with that particular keyring plot of his… But now he is at a total loss for what to do. Having Harry so close and yet so far away is causing James all kinds of angst. He can’t relax. He’s jumping at every little noise wondering if it’s the sound of footsteps near his door. If his phone is on vibrate he spends his whole time wondering if he can feel it buzzing against his thigh. If it’s on silent he obsessively checks it, even if the only thing that has changed is the digits on the clock ticking over from minute to minute.

He needs a plan for how to deal with this. But first, he needs a good night’s sleep. Which is why he’s popped out to the corner shop to pick up a bottle of whiskey in the hope that it will help knock him out.

And that’s where Harry runs into him. Repeatedly. Because as soon as has James untangled himself from Harry’s grasp, Harry has wriggled himself free from James’s own and pulled him back in for another crushing bear hug.

“James,” Harry sighs. “Oh! I’ve missed this…”

Harry is swaying slightly so James hugs him back, trying to keep them both on their feet lest Harry topple them over. James briefly wishes that they were back in his flat; at least that way he could be sure of a soft landing. But then he remembers what happened last time he and Harry fell onto his living room floor and suddenly having Harry pressed so tightly against him becomes a problem.

Finally, he’s able to put some distance between them. Harry pouts but doesn’t say anything as James looks him up and down. Harry looks great. Wherever he’s been it must have been somewhere with plenty of sunshine because Harry is tanned and glowing. He’s cut his hair slightly differently and the stubble on his jaw is, for once, there on purpose. But he also looks tired. His eyes are wide and unfocused, there are purple bags under them, and two flushed spots high on his cheeks.

“Are you drunk?” James asks.

“No!” comes the quick reply. Then, “maybe a bit. I swear I didn’t have that much! I wanted to come to see you and I needed… I needed a bit of Dutch courage, you know…?”

“And why were you coming to see me?”

Harry shuffles his feet and James nearly reaches out to catch him in case he falls. He just manages to keep himself in check. Harry’s always been inconsistent – and while he’s acting like he wants James now he’ll probably have changed his mind before the dawn light comes. While Harry has often struggled to articulate what he wants and to stand by what he has said, James knows himself much better. And he knows that if he lets Harry fall into his arms once more he’ll never be able to let him go.

“I wanted to say sorry.”

That’s not where James thought this conversation was going. He was sure it was either going to be _“you’re terrible and awful and you should stay out of my life forever”_ or _“I love you! Please take me back!”_ “Sorry” is new. “Sorry” is different, and James isn’t sure he likes it.

“I shouldn’t have run off,” Harry continues. “Or, I should; I needed to get my head straight. But… I should have told you where I was. I shouldn’t have cut you out of my life.”

“And now?” James is helpless to ask. “Is there still space for me in your life? Or have I been replaced?”

“James,” Harry breaths his name as if it is a prayer. As if he is scared that some vengeful god will strike him down for saying it wrong. “James, you will always have a place in my life. But I’ve messed you around so often. I understand if you don’t want…”

Harry’s voice trails away and a sound halfway between a hiccup and a sob bubbles out of his throat. In that instance, James’s choice has been made.

“Come here,” he says and opens his arms to Harry.

The young man sighs for joy and throws himself back into James’s chest. He wraps his arms around James’s back and digs his fingers into his clothes, clinging on as if to a life-line. He presses his cheek to the wool of James’s jumper, almost nuzzling against it like a kitten. James’s heart swells three sizes at the sight of the man he has adored and desired for so long huddled up against his chest as if James can protect him from all the horrors of the world. James swears then and there that he will. If only Harry will let him.

They’ll have to have this conversation again in the morning when Harry is sober, and James is surer of himself. For now, he will yield to the comfort of having Harry cradled against him and the heat of Harry’s kisses now being pressed against his neck. He bundles Harry up in his arms, tucking the smaller man into his side and wrapping his coat around him a little to protect him from the December chill. And, like that, they shuffle off in the direction of home. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @brigitingales for more jarry nonsense


End file.
